Little Lion Man
by adventuresinstorybrooke
Summary: Four minutes. That was how long Emma Swan was allowed to hold her son before he was whisked away. One-shot from Emma's perspective, after she gives birth to Henry, but before she has to give him away.


**I got this idea while writing my other story. It doesn't in any way follow that plot so I thought I'd make a one-shot out of it. I really do believe that Emma didn't just coldly turn away after Henry was born, so here's my take. I hope you like it. This story was named after the song by Mumford & Sons. Their music has been my inspiration lately...**

_Weep little lion man,_

_You're not as brave as you were at the start._

Four minutes. That was how long Emma Swan was allowed to hold her son before he was whisked away. Despite the hurt that grasping his tiny form to her chest caused her, she couldn't turn a blind eye. If all she had was four short minutes in his life, she would take them. Even though she would never be in his memory, she still needed him to know that he was wanted. And that he was loved.

She had made so many mistakes. Mistakes that she would never be able to take back and never be able to make right. But she would make sure that he never knew these mistakes. His life would be good, full of love and support and he would be raised by a mother who could give him everything Emma knew she never could.

Regret leeched from her every pore. The longer he slept in her arms, the stronger her heart beat for him; her son. _But he wasn't._ From the very beginning he had never been hers. She hadn't even wanted him. He was an accident, a problem that got in the way. It wasn't until she knew that she couldn't have him that she realized how much she longed to. And in that moment, he had been plucked from her.

A signature on a piece of paper determined his entire fate.

That was the day that her life had split in half. She was no longer one person. Half of her would always live with the child she had given away, and the other half would keep on going, pretending to fill the rest of the space. Time would continue, and she would travel onward, leaving him in the arms of another.

As she rested, with his warm form nestled into her, she stared at his small face, absorbing his appearance. His tiny nose and button chin, his slightly crinkled eyebrows, and the strings of soft brown hair that peeked onto his forehead. She still couldn't believe his size. His head fit perfectly in her hand and his thin little limbs moved about as she adjusted his position in her arms.

He was going to be strong, she knew that. He might wonder, as he grew older, where he had gotten his fighting tongue, and stubborn streak, but with time it would just become a normal part of him and one day he would cease to question it.

_Your grace is wasted in your face,_

_Your boldness stands alone among the wreck._

_Learn from your mother, or else spend your days biting your own neck._

She hoped that he wouldn't dwell on why she had given him away. She could remember clearly, being a little girl and crying herself to sleep because she missed her parents. The parents who hadn't wanted her and had abandoned her on the side of a highway. In her weakest moments she still experienced it sometimes.

But she was doing this for him. Out of love for him. She did love him, more than she had ever loved anyone. But she forced herself to keep it inside, to shove it away to the back of her mind, where it would become nothing more than a dream. She couldn't get attached, even though she knew that it was already too late.

Before she could blink, the nurse appeared in the doorway. Her entire world started spinning and she shut her eyes wishing the moment would freeze, and she could stay there forever. But she could feel herself moving to hand him off. Her insides were screaming at her to stop. It couldn't end like this. The nurse was already at the bed and reaching for him.

She held him closer, mustered her courage, and bent her head down to give him a soft kiss on the forehead. "Goodbye, kid." She had no other thing to call him by; she would never even know his name.

Time slowed as she felt his warm, squirming body leave her clutches. All she felt was an overwhelming sense of cold and emptiness. Her chest, her mind, her bones were hollow.

The nurse stepped out of the doorway, and then Emma heard it; his cries. They were loud and painful, and with that, she broke. Her body heaved with the sobs that she could no longer contain. She wanted to chase after him, to tell them that she had changed her mind. But the handcuff holding her to the bed by her left wrist wouldn't allow it. And even then, she could never take it back.

She had no other choice. A selected family, or a foster one. He would never have a life with her. So she laid there, her tears soaking into the down of her pillow, and didn't move. She didn't move or speak until someone came to fetch her, or asked her to respond.

But it was better this way. She forced herself to push the memories aside. She didn't have a son. She'd never had a son.

All of these things, she told herself for years. She made herself forget, it was less painful that way. It was for him, it was always for him. The child that was never hers.

_But it was not your fault but mine_

_And it was your heart on the line._

_I really fucked it up this time_

_Didn't I my dear?_

**More Emma feels. Her back-story is one that I am most interested to learn more about or see in the show. In my mind, giving Henry away is what made her so "cold." Up until that point I feel like she had hope still, in an almost childish sense. But then she lost a literal part of herself, and her world forever changed. **

**Anyways, thank you for reading; let me know what you thought. And go ahead and check out my other full story How Fickle My Heart. It's an AU with a teenage pregnant Emma who arrived in SB and Mary Margaret takes her in. Thanks again!**


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